Christy Moore - Back Home In Derry

In 1803 we sailed out to sea
Out from the sweet town of Derry
For Australia bound, if we didn´t all drown
And the marks of our fetters we carried
In rsuty iron chains we cried for our wains
Our good women we left in sorrow
As the mainsails unfurled our curses we hurled
On England and thoughts of tomorrow.

At the mouth of the Foyle bid farewell to the soil
As down below decks we were lying
O´Doherty screamed, woken out of a dream
By a vision of bold Robert dying
The sun burnt cruel as we dished out the gruel
Dan O´Connor was down with a fever
Sixty rebels today bound for Botany Bay
How many will reach their reciever?

We cursed them to hell as our bow fought the swell
Our ship danced like a moth in the firelight
White horses rode high as the devil passed by
Taking souls to Hades by twilight
Five weeks out to sea, we were now fourty-three
We buried our comrades each morning
In our own slime, lost in a time
Endless night without dawning.

Van Dieman´s Land is a hell for a man
To end up his whole life in slavery
Where the climate is raw and the gun makes the law
Neither wind nor the rain cares for bravery
Twenty years have gone by and I´ve ended my bond
My comrades`ghosts walk behind me
A rebel I came and I´m still the same
On the cold winds of night you will find me.

I wish I was back home in Derry.

( words written by Bobby Sands, MP )